Picking Up the Pieces
by Joix
Summary: After the Winter War, 2nd and 9th Divisions are enlisted to tighten security within the Seireitei.  As Soul Society begins the long process of recovering from Aizen's deceit, two captains embark on an unlikely relationship.  HisagixSoiFon, GrimmjowxNemu.
1. Grasping the First Shard

**Picking Up the Pieces**

**#1**

Omaeda sighed and flicked a booger at the wall. "That human girl really is something," he mumbled, eyeing Soi Fon's left arm as she filled out yet another report on the war. That's what he was supposed to be doing too, but he was still in awe of how well that Inoue girl's restoration ability had worked on his taichou.

Said taichou shot him a scathing look before returning her attention to whatever she was writing. "Get back to your work."

"What? It's not like anyone in Fourth could've - "

"I forbid you to speak of it."

He sighed and propped his elbow against his desk, resting his cheek against his hand. His eyes traveled over the long, tedious form in front of him. All the blanks, unfilled. He let out another deeper sigh and twirled his pen between his chubby fingers.

How many reports did they need on the same fight, anyway? Did it matter? They won, so what use was there for the stupid little details?

He set down his pen and absently reached into his newly opened bag of rice crackers. For a few minutes there was nothing but the sound of him crunching away and Soi Fon's continuous scratching against her paper as she jotted down a concise, uncensored recount of exactly how the fight against the Segunda Espada and his fraccion had went down.

_- at which point it was deemed necessary that Omaeda-fukutaichou cut off my left arm, in order to stop its progression -_

Soi Fon frowned at the sentence, considering it for a moment, then furiously crossed it out. There _had_ to be a better way to phrase it. She allowed her gaze to wander from the report to her fukutaichou. He was wrist-deep in his snacks, crumb-coated fingers clumsily fumbling for his pen. She continued on watching until her brain forced itself to turn to distractions, and suddenly she found herself thinking about Yoruichi, and wondering of her whereabouts. When would she see her again? Why didn't she visit Soul Society as often anymore? Had she said something to upset her, or -

"Taichou?"

Soi Fon broke from her fantasy interrogation and blinked back to reality, meeting her lieutenant's gaze. "What?"

He frowned and replied, through a mouthful of crackers, "You were staring."

She did her best to hide her disappointment in herself and instead crumpled up the form she'd spent the last half-hour slaving over. There was no way she was going to let Omaeda come off as a hero from all this. She had to figure out a different way to phrase that portion of the battle...

"It's nothing," she assured, tossing the ball of paper under her desk. She took a fresh form from the tall stack at her elbow and began to refill the empty blanks.

He blinked at her and popped another handful of crackers into his mouth. He wiped his hand off on his uniform and that's when movement from the other side of the room caught the corner of his eye. A jigokuchou fluttered in through the open window and made a lazy zigzag towards his superior's desk. It circled, then, after hovering a second or two, landed on the stack of forms.

"Looks like you've got a message, Taichou," Omaeda said through a mouthful of half-masticated mushy grain.

Soi Fon looked up.

* * *

><p>Panting heavily, Hisagi summoned Kazeshini back into its sealed form and fell back onto the grass somewhere deep within Ninth Division's training grounds. He raised a hand to block the sun from searing his eyes and just laid there, catching his breath. He'd been practicing for what seemed like hours, though he knew it was probably only half that. He'd already finished his reports regarding the battle in Karakura-cho and there was no issue of the Seireitei Bulletin to attend to this month. It had been cancelled due to all of the commotion.<p>

_That_, he corrected himself, rubbing a hand over his eyes, _and in memory of the late Ichimaru-taichou._

In the week since the war against Aizen and his cronies, it had been officially concluded that Ichimaru Gin had indeed not been a traitor after all - that he had in fact been working in the best interest of Soul Society all along. Not everyone was convinced, of course, but Yamamoto himself had made the decision to give the late former taichou of Third Division a proper burial and ceremony. It had taken place the morning before, and turnout was low due to the vast array of injuries that members of the Gotei 13 had sustained. Hinamori, Ukitake, and Ikkaku, among others, were all in the care of Fourth Division at the moment. Matsumoto should've been too, but she'd been adamant to attend the memorial.

Hisagi had contemplated paying a visit to Tenth Division with his spare time that morning, but decided against it. Both Matsumoto and Hitsugaya already had enough going on with the trauma and losses they'd suffered. If either needed comfort, they always had each other. The last thing they needed was an intrusion...

"Dammit," he hissed through grit teeth, letting his hand fall limply at his side. His other hand was still closed loosely over Kazeshini's hilt. Practicing by yourself could only achieve so much. But he needed something, anything, to do. He needed something to do, or else he would start overthinking things. He'd already replayed his fight with Tousen over and over in his mind until it played on loop subconsciously without him instigating it. It felt like everything was reminding him of his former taichou.

It hadn't been this bad when Tousen had merely defected. Because then, Hisagi knew that he was alive, that there was a chance to confront him and convince him to come to his senses and return. But now that chance was gone. And just when it had seemed like Tousen was his old self again...

"Aizen..." he mumbled, with a scornful chuckle. _I wonder how much satisfaction he got out of watching that._

"Hisagi-fukutaichou," a voice chirped from somewhere nearby, startling him. He raised his head to see an unseated member of his division standing further down the hill. She bowed as he sat up. "Pardon me for interrupting, but you've received a summons from Yamamoto-soutaichou."

* * *

><p>"Absolutely not," Soi Fon replied, without missing a beat. "Ninth Division was tasked with securing the border before and they failed miserably. I see no point in involving them in the process of improving our defenses."<p>

Hisagi was at a loss for words; he scrambled to think up something to counter that. "Soutaichou," he began, turning to Yamamoto, who sat before the both of them, hand resting sagely on his cane as usual, "if I can speak - "

"The reason the ryoka were able to enter the Seireitei in the first place is because of the security force's incompetence," said Soi Fon, her tone frosty. She cast a quick glance towards Hisagi. "There's no reason to repeat the same mistake twice. As taichou of my division and soushireikan of the Onmitsukidou, I have faith that my forces are more than capable of protecting the Seireitei and its inhabitants."

"Wait, wait." Hisagi stepped forward. "Excuse me, Taichou," he mumbled quickly, looking to Soi Fon briefly before turning to Yamamoto again. "The ryoka invasion wasn't the only thing going on then. We had turmoil within the Gotei 13 as well. It was a very confusing - "

"Of all the captains, I was one of the few that remained loyal to the Gotei 13 to the very end," Soi Fon countered. She crossed her arms. "While other captains faltered and second-guessed the orders they'd been handed, my men and I remained unwavering in our service."

Yamamoto tilted his head slightly towards her. "Are you saying you wish to take on the issue of the Seireitei's defense completely on your own?"

She gave an eager nod and uncrossed her arms. "I am, sir." She stood slightly in front of Hisagi. "I believe that the Ninth Division has enough to deal with as it is. Perhaps they can take over once they secure an official leader, but until then - "

Yamamoto thumped his cane against the floor and Soi Fon immediately stiffened - and shut up.

"I've heard enough," the elder said, sitting forward. "I thank you for your enthusiasm, Soi Fon-taichou, but I'm not going to take this responsibility away from its rightful division. If the invasion really was their fault, as you've said, then think of this as a chance for them to redeem themselves."

A wave of relief washed over Hisagi. He let out a long-held breath and bowed a bit. "Thank you, sir."

Yamamoto held his hand up. "I'm not finished." He looked from Hisagi to Soi Fon. "I want this to be a collaboration between Ninth Division and Second Division," he clarified. "Each have their strengths and weaknesses; I believe this could be a good opportunity for growth on both sides."

"But sir..." Soi Fon started, then abruptly stopped. Her gaze hardened, but she nodded, then looked away. "Yes, sir."

"Very good. I'll entrust the details to the both of you." He sat back, sighing a little. "You two are now dismissed. I have other business to attend to."

"Thank you, sir," the two chorused, bowing simultaneously. Soi Fon immediately turned on her heel and headed towards the exit, while Hisagi remained, still trying to let the situation sink in.

"Remember this, boy," Yamamoto spoke suddenly, causing the younger man's attention to snap to him once again. "You're acting taichou of the Ninth Division. You two are considered as equals on this task. Don't let her try to convince you otherwise."

Hisagi's mouth dropped open a little in disbelief and he quickly bowed again. "Yes, thank you sir."

"Now get back to work."

"Yes sir." Hisagi bowed yet again and then made his way out of the room.

Outside the broad double doors, the sun bore down onto the deck that led away from First Division's headquarters. The early afternoon's rays caught petite form of Soi Fon, who had already traveled some ways down.

"Hisagi-fukutaichou," she called to him, coming to a halt at the summit of the stairway. Her look was expectant as he caught up to her with an eager expression "We'll meet tomorrow to discuss our plan of action," she said, cocking her head to the side. Something glinted in her eyes; a mild arrogance. "I take it you'll have time?"

He gave a quick nod. "Yeah, of course."

"Good." She swiftly turned away and began to descend the steps.

"I look forward to working with you," Hisagi offered, his manners as a fukutaichou so deeply entrenched in him that he couldn't help but spew the mantra.

Soi Fon didn't bother to stop again. Her next words were as cold as ice. "Just don't get in my way."


	2. The Puppet & The Panther

**Picking Up the Pieces**

**#2**

_"Yes, Mayuri-sama. I'll check."_

_Grimmjow awakened at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. His eyes flew open and he began to sit up, only to be stopped by a jolt of pain that tore at his shoulder and ripped through the rest of his body. He turned his head and nothing but a sea of blood and sand filled his vision. What the hell? His arm was... it was gone again! When the hell had that happened? His eyes ran over the scene as he tried to process what was going on, but it was all just a blurry mess. Something was wrong with his eyes. Everything was fuzzy as hell._

_He grasped at the sand with his only hand, fingers searching for Pantera's hilt. Each finger ached and the effort it took to move them was stupidly hard. Had he really lost that much blood? Was that why his reiryoku was so damn low? Was that why it felt like he could hardly breathe?_

_And that's when he realized that something was in front of him. Maybe six yards or so. In any other situation he would've been unsettled that it had gotten this close without him noticing, but he knew that in his current state, his senses weren't exactly at their best. He squinted, trying to see better, but it didn't work. The something - whatever it was - approached him with a measured, unhesitant gait. It couldn't be the human girl then, he realized, but it was something like that. Someone, that is._

_Suddenly, that 'someone' was directly in front of him. A woman. She was kneeling, and it looked like she was looking at him, but he couldn't tell because he still couldn't see for shit and - _

_" - the hell away from me," he rasped out, swiping at her with his arm. This brought no reaction from the woman and he briefly wondered why before realizing that he didn't have that arm anymore; he just had a hacked-off, bloody stump. Stumps weren't very threatening._

_His vision began to clear a little and he took in her unfazed expression. She looked over her shoulder, to something or someone that he couldn't see from where he was lying. "It appears to be alive, sir," she said, in a monotone._

_Whoever she was talking to let out a squeal of delight. A man, he figured by the voice. "Splendid. Cauterize its wounds and bring it to the Gargantua immediately."_

_"Yes, sir." The woman returned her attention to Grimmjow and he started to shift again, to make another attempt at sitting up. "Please, don't," the woman said, putting a hand to his chest and pushing him back onto the ground with a strength he hadn't imagined she could possess. "Your wounds must be tended to first." She settled into a sitting posture and began to open some sort of small case that he was just now seeing for the first time._

_Using her preoccupation to his advantage, he seized her arm with his own, but she slid out of his grip before he had the chance to tighten it. His body wasn't acting right; he could feel it. All of his movements were delayed and sluggish. His grip was weak and loose. Useless. How could that jerkass Nnoitra have screwed him up this bad?_

_"The hell do you think you're doing?" he asked, his voice still scratchy and strained. His eyes went to the woman, and her face was clearer now. Her expression was plain and devoid of any sort of feeling. A moment passed, and still nothing. "You stupid wench," he growled, grabbing her by the neck. He pulled her face closer, so she hovered above him. Still, not so much as a drop of emotion had surfaced. She stared blankly at him, even as his fingers closed tighter on her throat. She wasn't even trying to get him to let go. What the hell, was she stupid? Did she not care if he strangled her to death?_

_And that's when he suddenly felt the slightest prick somewhere near his ribcage. He didn't have time to look down as he felt something cold race through his veins, and his hold on her neck immediately loosened, even though he was trying with all his strength to hold on. The woman brushed his hand away as if it were a leaf blown in the wind. His vision grew skewed again, but he was able to make out what she held in her other hand: a spent syringe. He opened his mouth to speak, but his jaw felt like it was made of lead. The sensation spread through his body and before he had a chance to do anything more, his eyes closed on their own and suddenly there was nothing._

* * *

><p>Sounds of steel boring into bone and flesh filled the main laboratory of Twelfth Division. The drill clasped in Kurotsuchi's bony hand squealed and screeched in protest as he drove it deeper into the newly cracked open cavity of his fresh specimen.<p>

The possibilities, the possibilities - oh, the _possibilities_! Kurotsuchi smiled to himself as he carelessly tossed the drill aside and literally dove hands-first into his work. It landed with a crash amongst a mixture of old, abandoned experiments and various equipment.

"Nemu!" he snapped, up to his elbows in Arrancar-entrails. "Bring me the forceps!"

"Yes, Mayuri-sama," Nemu replied automatically, giving the specimen she'd been watching over a last glance before fetching the required instrument. She handed it to her father, who swiped it from her hands with a gooey one of his own.

"Could you be any slower, you clod? Perhaps it's time for some maintenance work again. You _have _been on the lazy side lately..." he grumbled, more to himself than anything as he again became engrossed with his project.

Nemu returned to where she'd been sitting, a few feet in front of the modified holding cell that was now home to their second specimen.

Their preliminary search in Hueco Mundo had yielded promising results. They had managed to collect two specimens that were ripe for the experimenting, and there were signs that more were to be found there upon a more meticulous hunt. Kurotsuchi had wanted to stay longer in the desolate wasteland, but Yamamoto had ordered that all Shinigami were to return to Soul Society immediately. No doubt, Kurotsuchi would put in a petition to travel to Hueco Mundo again, sooner rather than later, but for now the two would suffice his ever-growing curiosities.

The first of their find - who was the one currently on the receiving end of Kurotsuchi's probing fingers - was a thin Arrancar with blond hair and a patch over one eye. He had been in worse shape between the two specimens, and therefore the first to undergo experimenting, as his survival into the evening was unlikely.

Kurotsuchi had left the second in Nemu's charge until he grew bored of the first. This one was also an Arrancar, an Espada by Kurotsuchi's determination. He had a better build than the frail blond one, although he had an arm missing, and Mayuri found the fact that he'd even made an attempt to strangle Nemu, despite his grave injuries, very promising indeed. 'Spunky' was the word her taichou had used, to be precise.

Nemu had been sitting there for a solid eleven hours, her eyes focused solely on the Espada, searching for any stir of the fingers or twitch of the mouth that would signal his impending awakening. If her dosing back in Hueco Mundo had been accurate, he would be waking up any minute now.

Once he did wake, he needed to be fed, Nemu related back to herself, still staring blankly at the Espada. Arrancars needed to eat just as Shinigami did, and if he were to die under her care, Taichou would be greatly displeased. Displeasure was the last thing she wished on her father. No, she wanted to impress him - no matter the cost. She'd seen how excited he'd become once he realized this specimen was an Espada. It was a pleasure nearly as great as when he'd fought the Octa Espada.

The blue-haired specimen stirred suddenly, and Nemu sat forward a bit. She could hear him now; his ragged breathing. It was labored and uneven, as if he'd just gotten through a fight. It was a sign that the drug was in its final stages of wearing off. He wouldn't feel any pain for a while yet, but it would come. Her father had given her permission to administer additional anesthetics if need be, but forbade her from using it more than once in a twenty-four hour period, as such frequent use would damage several particular precious nerves that he couldn't wait to sink his nails into.

She watched as the Espada's eyes slowly opened. They were the same color as his hair. It seemed that all Espada had extravagant colorings to them. Her father would surely find that interesting.

He blinked once, then twice more, quickly. Something seemed to spark and he sat up abruptly, with an unusual swiftness and agility, she observed, considering he only had one arm.

"I'm glad to see you've awakened on schedule," she said to him, causing him to notice her for the first time. The look he gave her was a strange mixture of wrath and confusion. It lasted a fleeting second and was replaced with a mask of arrogance and amusement. She made a mental note of it.

"And who the hell are you?" he asked after a moment, having given his surroundings a cursory glance. A cocky grin eased onto his face as his eyes traveled over her. "What's a chick doing guarding prisoners?"

"Prisoner?" she echoed.

"Interrogation, right? You want to ask me about Aizen?" The Espada leaned back against the wall, letting out a heavy sigh. He looked to his arm - or rather, where it used to be. The stump was bandaged now, and the rest of his wounds had been closed. His gaze went back to Nemu. "I hate to break it to you, but you're wrong if you think we know anything about what he's got planned. We're just nameless pawns to him."

Nemu's expression remained vacant. "Aizen-taichou? He's already been transported to Muken. There is no longer any speculation of what plans he had."

His brow arched and he regarded her with a slightly amused look. "Muken? Aizen's in Muken?"

She nodded. "Yes. We have no interest in what his intentions were. You've been brought here because Mayuri-sama wishes to perform experiments in which you are a desirable specimen for." She folded her hands on her lap. "Does that answer your questions?"

"You mean your puny little army actually took him down? No way! I don't believe it!" Putting a hand over his eyes, he gave a hollow laugh. It rang and echoed against the walls.

"Mayuri-sama dislikes it when people shout in his lab," Nemu said after a moment. She met his gaze. "Please refrain from doing so."

"Shut up." He looked her over again, head tilted to the side. "Are you the one that patched me up?"

She dipped her head. "To ensure your survival."

"What's the point if you're just going to kill me anyway?" he asked, eyes narrowed at her. "If you _could_, that is."

She wasn't perturbed by his last comment. "Mayuri-sama wishes you to be in your best condition when he begins his exploration of your physiology."

"Torture, you mean."

"There's a chance he will distribute an anesthesia, should he be in a bad mood." She paused. "Nothing angers my father more than the screams of a man."

"Getting a little ahead of ourselves, aren't we?"

"Do you hear that?" she asked, glancing in the direction of where her father was going to town on the other Arrancar. The grinding of his tools were comforting to her - they were the sound of home, but she had, over the years, learned that the sound was displeasing to many of their specimens. "Mayuri-sama is currently in the midst of exploring a cohort of yours." She looked to the Espada again, catching the flickering sliver of a crack in his facade of confidence. "He eagerly awaits your recovery in anticipation that he may do the same to you."

The Espada scratched at his jaw, just under the fragment of bone that Nemu was sure Kurotsuchi would pry off the first chance he got. "You expect me to be intimidated or something?" he asked casually, meeting her gaze again. Yeah, you've got me locked up; so what? The second you or your boss steps foot in this thing," he made a flippant gesture to the small barred cell, "you're good as dead."

Nemu found his logic incorrect, but had no urge to tell him so.

"It's imperative for your survival that you eat," she said instead, as she began to stand. "Please wait here while I get your food."

"Tch, yeah, like I'm going anywhere..."

Nemu wove through the maze of the laboratory, her footsteps drowned out by the whirring of a saw. She made her way to the table where Kurotsuchi had left the sustenance he planned to keep his specimens alive with. It hadn't taken him long to perfect the victuals, but it was difficult to say if it was a success for certain until it was tested out on an actual Hollow-based organism.

"We're unable to provide you with the exact same provisions that you consumed in Hueco Mundo," Nemu said to the Espada once she'd returned, holding a tray, "but you'll find that these will satisfy you just as well." She didn't wait for him to answer; she opened the small slot at the floor of the cell and push the tray inside. "Mayuri-sama prepared them especially for your kind."

The Espada turned his eyes from the mad scientist's idea of "food" - a pile of vibrantly colored, oddly shaped pills - and then back to Nemu again. He made no move for the tray. "What's your name?" he demanded instead, settling into a more comfortable position against the wall.

She found the question useless, but answered anyway. "Nemu."

"Nemu?" He made a face and sat forward, one brow cocked. "Is that some kind of joke?"

She clasped her hands in front of her. "Please eat."

"Answer me, woman."

"I'm afraid I don't understand your question." Her green eyes flickered over him. "Now, please eat."

"To hell with that!" He got to his feet suddenly, - but not quickly enough to make her flinch - snatched up the tray and flung it at the bars. Metal clanged against metal and pills scattered, falling both inside and outside the cell. The tray landed with a thud, vibrating almost imperceptibly at the impact.

Nemu found herself staring face to face with the Espada. What reiryoku he had left jumped and pulsed. Something raged in his eyes, and a strong hand gripped against a bar. She could almost feel his breath on her face, and then abruptly, he doubled over, arm pressed against his abdomen.

"Dammit," he growled, through grit teeth. He staggered back, inhaling sharply, and after a moment looked up at Nemu. "What the hell'd you do - "

"My my, you're a lively one, aren't you?" Kurotsuchi said with his eerie grin as he appeared from seemingly nowhere pushed Nemu out of the way. He curled his tenuous fingers around the bars and smiled down at his captive Espada. "It looks like you're in pain. That's to be expected. Even miracle drugs like mine can only last for so long. They all wear off, eventually..." His golden eyes surveyed the cell, then the area around it. They honed in on the strewn pills. "What's this?" He whirled around to face Nemu. "What're these doing on the floor? Why hasn't he been fed yet?" He grabbed her by the hair pulled her closer. "What have you been doing all this time, fool? Your orders were simple. Feed him when he wakes up. Is that really so difficult?" He slapped her across the face, then let go, unable to keep his eyes off the Espada for too long. He peered back into the cell, where the Espada was still crouched, gritting his teeth at the waves of pain that were making their comeback. Kurotsuchi couldn't help but let out a giggle of anticipation. "Feed him immediately and then come assist me with the dissection of the Arrancar."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

><p>Hisagi came out of his first taichou's meeting with a pounding headache. He wasn't sure what it was from - the constant sound of Yamamoto-soutaichou's voice booming in such close proximity, or the stifling air of the meeting hall.<p>

He knew he wasn't the only one that had felt uncomfortable. Kira and Hinamori had been standing in for their respective divisions as well. Hisagi was sure he'd felt just as miserable as the two of them had looked. All for different reasons, that is. Hinamori was still in a delicate state of recovery, both mentally and physically, whereas Kira was just sick with worry that he would run his division into the ground.

Soutaichou had brought up inevitable subject of bringing in new taichou, but it was more of a passing thought that a full-on discussion. Nobody knew of anyone who had achieved bankai and wasn't already serving as a taichou or fukutaichou. At least, nobody claimed to.

The thought had occurred to Hisagi before. Did he want to be taichou? Well, in short... yes. He was already running things in his division anyway. It wasn't going so bad. But he was still years away from achieving bankai. Hell, only recently had he even become somewhat comfortable with Kazeshini's shikai form. He hadn't mastered it yet. Not the way he'd wanted to.

He leaned against the railing of the balcony that was just outside the meeting hall, then let out a long sigh. Off in the distance, the sun was hovering just above the sekkiseki wall that kept the unwanted out of the Seireitei. It made the wall look a shade of orangish pink that seemed to take away some of its intimidation-factor.

The sight of it reminded him of what Yamamoto had said the day before. Something had to be done about the Seireitei's defenses, and although it wasn't directly his fault at the time of the invasion, it was his responsibility now. He'd inherited it, perhaps temporarily, from his former taichou.

It was just one of the many things he'd left him with.

"Hisagi-fukutaichou."

Soi Fon's voice snapped him from his thoughts. He looked to her, where she stood at the railing a few feet off, arms crossed and nestled deep in her sleeves. Her dark eyes moved from him, to the view that stretched before them - the trees and plains, and beyond that, the wall.

She stayed quiet for a moment, until he followed where she was looking with his own eyes. She gave him a brief glance before stepping away from the railing.

"Shall we take a walk?"


End file.
